For the Nights I Can't Remember
by DayStorm
Summary: Lucien Castle - dark and possessing the devil's own charisma . . . is not a man Cami trusts. Nor should she. But the suave ancient vampire knows something of Camille's past that has been stolen from her. He intends to put the wrong things right. (Request-fic)
1. Chapter 1

_***It goes without saying that The Originals – the story and all related characters – belong to the writers, cast and crew of the show. I claim no ownership or association to the TV series titled The Originals. This was written by a fan solely for the enjoyment of other fans.***_

 **Quick Word from DayStorm:** _This short story was requested by_ _ **xKittyPetrovax3**_ _. Originally meant to be a one-shot, this story sort of took off once I started writing it. lol I've given Cami and Lucien a real go, and even though I have a tremendous fanfic workload at the moment . . . I'm interested in delving into this one again._

 _I might just come back in a year or so, and write a full-length fic based off of this. :)_

 _To_ _**xKittyPetrovax3**_. _This one's yours._

 _Best,_

 _DayStorm_

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

 _I know that you're hiding things_

 _Using gentle words to shelter me_

 _Your words were like a dream_

 _But dreams could never fool me . . ._

– **1,000 Words**

Sweetbox, Lyrics

* * *

Dinner was late, but well-worth the wait; a tender glazed pork loin with baby carrots and new potatoes. Tender steamed asparagus, candied fruit and enough sides to satisfy anyone with the promise of dessert to come. The table where dinner was being served – a dark mahogany – was set for two.

Three tall, white candles intimately lit.

It all felt very . . . staged.

Camille sat passively, tension knotting her stomach but willing to play her captor's game. She would watch and she would learn, and when the moment presented itself she would escape. Or she would die. Either way, whatever was going to happen would happen tonight. Not a particularly comfortable realization; she would need to be sharper than she'd ever been before.

Cami lifted her eyes, letting her gaze settle on the man sitting across from her.

Lucien Castle. Dark and possessing the devil's own charisma, he'd stolen her right off the street; abducted her from the parking lot of a police precinct. That took some nerve. The threat the police posed was laughable, but it was no secret that she was a friend to the Originals and under Klaus' protection in particular. He knew that.

And yet he still took her.

For leverage, Lucien had said, and she believed him. There was no reason not to . . . what was she worth to an ancient vampire with a grudge, if not for her association to the Original family? Nothing. She had nothing else worth letting her live for.

Why, then, was she doubting that motivation? She knew why.

Lucien returned from the Thanksgiving meal he was invited to share with Elijah and Klaus . . . and others . . . by himself and in remarkably fair condition.

Cami tried to gauge his mood when he first got home, watching him from her seat in the living room. Lucien hadn't paid her any attention, then. He removed his black silk jacket, loosened his tie and set both neatly aside. His shirt, also silk and as black as jet was made of such exquisite quality that it was like liquid. It hung lightly from his shoulders and moved with his body when he reached to slip the top two buttons free. Rippling like midnight currents. She could see the lean, hard slide of muscle beneath. The sharper cut of his shoulders turning.

She lifted her eyes, feeling flush and uncomfortable in her chair out of the way. Lucien was watching her, reflected in the large mirror over his bed. A wicked smile twisting his expression into something dangerously boyish. Cami's heart gave a firm thump and she looked quickly away. Averting her gaze as if that would make a difference. He saw what he needed.

Attraction knotted her stomach, and a rush of unwanted heat pooled lower.

Lucien was her captor. No matter how desirable he seemed, it was important she not forget that.

Having made himself comfortable, Lucien proceeded to sit them both down to supper. Having to wait for him to come back from his evening out explained why she was eating at midnight.

"Drink up, Cami," Lucien drawled amiably. "If you're not hungry, don't let the wine go to waste."

 _Pick your battles,_ Cami thought as fresh tension tightened the space between her shoulders. She reached for her wineglass, faintly surprised by the weight of it in her hand.

The wine was a deep, luxurious purple. Candlelight caught in the liquid, sparkling crimson where it came through. Cami tasted it, holding the wine in her mouth for several seconds. Violets, black cherry and . . . smoke. Very nice. And very expensive, if the complexity of the flavors were any indication.

Aware that Lucien was watching her, a devilish tilt to his omnipresent smirk Camille very carefully set her glass back down and folded her hands in her lap. She was not at a dinner party and _**he**_ was not a friend.

"Why didn't you tell anyone you had me?" she said.

Lucien froze in the process of reaching for the butter dish. "Excuse me?"

"You came back and you were alone," Cami elaborated. She smiled at the vampire seated across from her, fervently hoping he wouldn't notice the beads of hot sweat forming in her hairline. "A hostage is useless if no one knows you have her. What is the point of all this?"

"Nobody knows you're missing. And I'm not going to kill you," Lucien said lightly. He seemed more amused by her assumption than he had any right to be. Murdering her if she proved useless to him was perfectly reasonable when dealing with vampires, she had learned.

Vampires were notoriously callous when it came to life – with the exception of those they cared for, of course. Lives were disposable. They were so callous, in fact, that Lucien rolling his eyes effectively derailed her train of thought. Her assumption was perfectly reasonable. Cami picked up her fork, needing a moment to pull herself together. She needed to focus and was finding it a particularly difficult thing to do under the enigmatic gaze of the handsome vampire.

A tremor of heat rolled beneath her skin. Not at all unpleasant.

"Klaus told me you were the first," Cami offered. "That you essentially created yourself. They didn't know it could be done. Not then."

"Did he," Lucien rolled his shoulders and leaned back in his chair, tipping his wineglass at Camille in invitation. "What else has he said about me?"

She took another small sip of her wine, careful not to drink too much. She wanted to moisten her throat, not fog her thinking.

Cami felt uneasy in Lucien's presence, and she was perceptive enough to recognize it wasn't the danger he posed that troubled her. It was something else. Something . . . she didn't know. It was the strangest sensation – not quite déjà vu, she felt as if there was something she'd forgotten. That sense of _'did I leave the stove on?'_

Irritating her; she couldn't place it.

Cami tilted her face down, and glanced up at Lucien in a purely feminine gesture of flirtation to let the candlelight catch in her eyes. Hoping to confuse him just enough so that she could find a foothold. A way in, past his deliberate stonewalling. Whether she succeeded, she couldn't tell. Lucien looked prepared to sit there all night, one dark brow raised. Waiting for her to respond.

"I don't know very much," Cami admitted at last. With Lucien's vampire hearing, he was a walking lie-detector so that, at least, was true. He wouldn't hear any tell-tale skips to her pulse showing deceit. Although Camille was more interested in discovering _ **his**_ truths. What did he want with her?

Lucien was so damn evasive. He said nothing about himself, instead turning the focus of their conversation back on her. Keeping her guessing and on her toes.

She could have stayed silent, leaving her captor satisfied with that very brief but honest response to his inquiry. What did she know about him? Nothing much. But instead, she licked her lips and confessed, "I know that any vampire as old as you does nothing without a purpose. There's a reason for all of this. If it's not to bait the Originals, then what do you want? What are you after?"

Lucien smirked over the lip of his glass. Dark eyes glinting in the candlelight and Cami's heart gave a firm _thu-thump_. She placed her hand on her chest, over her heart. Aware the vampire across from her could hear the beat. He was handsome; there was no denying it and no point in trying. His stunning good looks only heightened by the predator she saw in his eyes – he was like a tiger peering at her through the trees. Beautiful creature. Deadly.

Like with the cat, she knew enough to keep her distance.

"Why didn't you tell anybody that you had me?" she asked again, directing the conversation.

"Hoping for rescue, Cami?" Lucien taunted. He set his wineglass down and leaned back in his chair, bracing one arm over the back. His silky black shirt pulling over his front, gifting her with a tantalizing taste of that smooth, sculpted chest.

Camille swallowed, wishing she could drink more. Her throat felt raw. She said, "Is that why you neglected to inform anyone you were holding a hostage? You knew they'd come for me."

"One of the reasons," her captor responded. "Let's say I'm interested in more than having my innards fed to me tonight."

Her stomach hollowed as her body turned quickly cold at those words. She watched Lucien carefully, trying to gauge his mood. His intentions. Frustratingly, she found him as difficult to read as before. Lucien hid his thoughts beneath the mask of devil-may-care swagger. It was such a simple tactic but an effective one.

But of course, the only vampires in the world older than him were the Originals themselves. For Lucien to have survived as long as he had, he would have needed more than brute strength and the desire to live to get him through the centuries. He was intelligent and that made him more dangerous than he would have been otherwise. The ancient vampire who played at being the self-made millionaire playboy was just as dangerous as Klaus.

He was lethal and precise . . . and unlike Klaus, he owed her nothing.

He would kill her. Torture and maim her, if he thought it would get him what he was after.

Some of what she was thinking must have shown on her face. Lucien sighed and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table. "You're afraid of me."

Cami blinked. "W-what?"

"I expected it," he said. "Would have suspected something regrettable otherwise. Is it strange, then, that I never considered the effect your fear would have on _**me**_? To have to sit here and see the quiet terror in your eyes . . . see you trying to master yourself and only just succeeding? The rapid beat of your heart echoing in my head. So sure I intend to kill you. Despite what you must think, Camille, I am not enjoying this."

She said nothing. Her fingers curling into fists on her lap.

A moment passed. Then another. She said, "My friends will come for me. Someone will notice I'm gone, and they'll track me here."

Lucien allowed amusement to bleed through his sardonic expression but cracks had begun to appear in that mask he wore so easily. Hurt. It was there and gone so quickly she nearly missed it. Just the tiniest flicker of emotion that slipped into his eyes before it was gone.

Puzzled, Cami leaned forward before she realized what she'd done. She immediately eased back into her chair, fervently hoping it only looked like she was trying to get comfortable. No luck. Lucien saw alright and he picked up his wineglass, lifting it in silent salute. Mocking her.

 _Look all you want. You'll take what I give you, Camille._

This was insane. Cami felt as if she were expected to win a game where she didn't know all the rules. Chess against a master. Every move had to be measured before it could be played, because her opponent missed nothing and the cost of failing would be . . . would be . . . what did Lucien _**want**_?

Was she frightened? Oh, yes. But more than anything, she felt thrown off balance. Flustered and confused. There was something there. She was sure of it. Something he meant to tell her.

"Lucien," she sighed, releasing the breath she'd been holding.

"Cami," he echoed.

"What do you want with me?"

No more games. No more pretending. She needed to know, and it was clear he _**did**_ want to tell her.

"I want the truth, Camille. I want it not for myself, but for you." Said with perfect honesty, tension rolling off of every word. Heat smoldering in the depth of his dark eyes and none of it was fake. She believed him. "I only want to show you what was taken from you. Return what was stolen and prove that I am not the villain of this particular story. Undo however much damage as I can so that by the end of tonight the Cami that I knew might find a measure of wholeness again."

A measure of wholeness. Said so easily she questioned if she was even able to question it, though she had no idea what that was supposed to mean. Cami lifted her eyes, meeting Lucien's gaze from across their intimately small table. The warm, rich scent of their dinner deceptively reassuring in its familiarity. Those scents made her think of home and her childhood, which might have been what Lucien intended. She pushed those memories away, instead turning her attention to the tall white candles between her and the ancient vampire.

Tiny flames burned brightly in the unlit room. Beads of melted wax liquid as they slid down the length of the candles, glistening and transparent at first. Quickly losing their heat to harden into milky pearls. The candle's wicks were blackened. The flames sharp, perfect little spades. Bright orange, fading to yellow and then white nearer the center. They burned brilliant blue at their base, where they were the hottest.

"Camille?" Lucien's voice. Darkly seductive, like a whip coiled around a champagne bottle. She could feel that voice on her skin. Like the brush of fingers, intimately warm. She could feel the sparkle in her blood, heating her body.

Cami drew a careful breath. "Did you put something in my drink?"

Startled silence followed her query. She didn't look at the vampire. Her eyes were beginning to sting from staring into that burning light for too long. She couldn't make herself look away. Afraid of what she might see. Afraid of things she felt while in his presence.

Not as afraid as she should have been. "Did you?"

"No."

One word. Harsh denial.

She believed him. She didn't feel ill. Wasn't even sure why she'd asked.

The candle flame was extinguished by a hand coming down over it. Snuffing out the light with a puff of smoke and a brief burst of hot-wax-smell. She glanced up, then, and had to blink several times to clear her vision. The shadowy echo of the flame-shape lingered in her vision like an eclipse.

"Why would you ask that?" Lucien demanded. Another crack in his mask – this one on purpose, Cami thought. He was irritated and wanted her to know it.

Her gaze sharpened, narrowing on Lucien as she realized that in her distraction she'd missed exactly what he had said to her. The most direct statement he'd made all night.

 _. . . I am not the villain of this particular story . . ._

It was the only thing he'd said about _**himself**_. That was significant.

"Who's the villain?" Cami asked, her voice surer than it'd been. Her interest was piqued and she felt more like herself because of it. Her fear dissolving beneath her wealth of experience. She finally had something to contribute to this discussion, and if she could only keep Lucien talking . . .

Lucien might have been surprised by the suddenness of her question, but he didn't show it.

He lifted his hand from the candle, a small twist of smoke wafting through his fingers. "Guess."

"No," Cami said. "Not guessing. Tell me what you meant by that."

"I mean exactly what I said. I am not the villain. There is a monster in your world, Camille, and it is the devil himself."

Cami closed her eyes. Her pulse skipped at the implication and a measure of guilt; that she couldn't pretend ignorance. "Klaus."

Lucien only smiled. A dark, dangerous twist to his mouth.


	2. Chapter 2

_***It goes without saying that The Originals – the story and all related characters – belong to the writers, cast and crew of the show. I claim no ownership or association to the TV series titled The Originals. This was written by a fan solely for the enjoyment of other fans.***_

 **Chapter 2**

 _Never made it as a wise man_

 _I couldn't cut it as a poor man stealing_

 _Tired of living like a blind man_

 _I'm sick of sight without a sense of feeling_

– **How You Remind Me**

Nickelback, Lyrics

* * *

Klaus was the devil.

Klaus was the villain.

Cami's first impulse was to accept Lucien's accusation as truth. How do you deny something you yourself have admitted? Time and again, Klaus proved he could slip into the role of monster so easily. She was no idiot. She cared for the Original Hybrid . . . cared too deeply, perhaps, but there you have it. She also wasn't blind to the things he did; to what he was.

But after the initial agreement, that one moment of weakness, she recognized the monumental lie in Lucien's words.

Klaus Mikaelson was the easy scapegoat. You need a monster, and there he is. Readymade and raring to go. Whether he did anything or not didn't seem to matter. Klaus could be blamed for just about every evil and because of the things he'd done – the man that he was – it was easy to believe the worst.

"You're lying," Cami said. Blatant accusation. She met Lucien's dark eyes evenly, un-amused and finally understanding the ancient vampire's game. She could be used as a weapon, against the one vampire in the world who was unconquerable. He trusted her, where he trusted no one else.

If Lucien was bothered by her denial, he didn't show it. He leaned forward, resting both elbows on the shiny table and crossed his fingers loosely in front of him. His daylight ring glinting in the soft glow of the remaining lit candle. His dark smile dangerously seductive. "Is that what you think?"

"It's what I know," Cami said.

"It's what you think you know," Lucien rebutted. Sharply. Cami's eyes narrowed at the too-quick response. Not with suspicion. No, she felt . . . it was the oddest thing.

Camille prided herself on her sensibility. Her intelligence. She was very much an intellectual, having studied the mind for too long to deny the power of suggestion. The brain's incredible ability to manipulate a person's reality. Her understanding had needed to be revised after the discovery of the existence of the supernatural . . . but the majority of what she knew was still true. And it applied to this moment.

She did not trust Lucien Castle – first sired vampire in the world. Oldest, after the Originals no matter what his face suggested. The cunning in his eyes, ageless. Lucien was a complex character and he fascinated her. No matter how her sense told her that was unwise, she was drawn to him and she hated that she was.

It made it so that she was more likely to listen to, rather than study her captor. And he was her captor, she reminded herself sternly. He wouldn't let her leave until he was done. If he let her leave at all. The wine in her stomach turned sour.

"You hate me now, Camille but I won't have to turn you against him," Lucien said, with a derisive curl of his lip. "When you hear what he took from you, you won't want him back."

A prickle of nerves rolled up Cami's spine, crackling like an electrical current. Foreboding. What her grandmother O'Connell would have said was someone walking on her grave. Not a particularly comforting thought to have, when staring across a table at a vampire. He didn't need to show fangs, to be all sharp teeth and a cutting smirk.

Cami took a measured breath, and drew herself up in her chair. Said, "You have my attention. I'm listening."

Lucien snickered. "So stoic." His voice softened. "Alright, Cami, you're right. It's cruel of me to draw this out; you deserve your answers."

She did.

What he said puzzled her but she said nothing in response, not wanting to interrupt. Lucien lifted his wineglass and took a slow, appreciative drink. Savoring the complexity of the flavors, while keeping his dark eyes level with hers. He set the glass down. Cami clenched her fists on her lap, wrinkling her borrowed skirt with how hard she was holding onto the delicate fabric.

"I'll tell you now, you won't believe a word of what I say," he began, long fingers brushing the narrow stem of his wineglass. Lucien clenched his jaw and to Cami's sharp eyes it seemed like frustration, rather than anger. "The truth is that you were compelled to feel an aversion to me. To fear me as a threat and a menace. _**He**_ did this to you. If there's one thing Klaus has in abundance, its arrogance. Bastard has no idea that his manipulation was flawed and _**that**_ my precious Cami is why I took you. I'm going to undo the damage and return what he stole."

Cami swallowed, struggling to moisten a suddenly dry mouth. Lucien dropped a trigger word _'compulsion'_ to get a rise out of her. To give credence to his accusation. The Hybrid as the monster. The joke was, even as she recognized what he was doing . . . he wasn't wrong. Compulsion could twist her mind, turning the unreal into perfect reality. Klaus could indeed compel her to believe anything, no matter how preposterous. He had done so before.

But so could any vampire.

Lucien narrowed his gaze on her. "Do you remember when we met, Camille? For the first time."

She nodded. Yes, of course.

"Tell me," Lucien pressed. "Tell me, when did we meet?"

She cleared her throat. "Last week."

At Klaus' gallery showing, when she came to request Klaus' help in finding the serial killer leaving bodies displayed like butterflies on a corkboard all over the French Quarter. She'd come to suspect the killer was the mysterious Lucien Castle. She wondered now, where she hadn't before, if her suspicion was only because of the compulsion . . . to distrust him . . . Klaus had certainly dismissed her concerns. But of course, he would have known.

"No," Lucien said quietly, regret deepening in his eyes. "No, my love. You and I met for the first time two years ago. You were made to forget it all, but I never did."

"W-what?"

"I never let you go, never intended to stop searching for a way to return," he said. "Two years I spent, knowing where you were. Sleeping alone, while imagining what he might be doing with you. Knowing that if you'd had any choice, you and I would have been together."

Cold trembled Cami's skin. Her breaths came shallowly, panic building in her chest and she was hardly aware of it. Her fingernails tearing small holes in her skirt, from where she ground them into her palms. Her heart ached with emotion she couldn't name . . . something dancing just out of sight.

"I – I don't believe you," she said, weakly. A particular tremor in her voice.

Lucien only just lifted a single dark brow.

She wouldn't believe him, he warned her already. She was compelled to distrust him. She didn't believe that claim, either, but how would she know?

"You waited two years, to come and get me," she said, trying to find the deception she sensed. Swallowed again. Her throat so dry it pinched. "Why? I-I mean, why did you come back at all?"

"A promise I made," he told her. "On that last day, the last one you and I would have before he took you away, made me swear that I would never give you up. You made me promise that I would find a way to bring you back . . . make you remember."

His lashes fell, sweeping down to hide his eyes. He didn't bow his head, seeming instead to be losing himself in thought. Cami watched him, her mind churning at the implication and also with deep suspicion. It couldn't be true . . . did he really expect her to believe she asked him to pursue her? No. No, it wasn't real.

Immediately on the heels of that thought; _'you won't believe a word I say. You were compelled to feel an aversion to me . . .'_

She was feeling it. She was suspicious of her own suspicion because she had no way to tell if the things she felt were real. Camille couldn't trust her own mind, and that was madness. If there was one thing she prized, it was her mind . . . and to have that stripped from her . . . she felt pain. This was not the first time she was manipulated by a vampire's power.

Sensing her conflict, Lucien took pity on the mortal woman. He continued speaking, "We met as you were leaving Rousseau's. Out the back door, after closing. Such a carless thing to do, for a woman all alone. In an alley in the middle of the night." A tender smile flit over his expression, softening those hard eyes. There and gone so fast she almost missed it. "I didn't go to you, though I wanted to. Instead I followed. Keeping well out of sight, but also not so far as to lose you in the city."

"You were watching me?" she interrupted. "You _**followed**_ me?"

Lucien laughed. "I didn't know it then, but you had only just been released from Klaus' compulsion – the first one. You had friends with power in this city. The young witch, who freed you. Marcel Gerard . . . the former king of the Quarter. You had feelings for him."

The last was said without any particular emphasis, but Cami still narrowed her eyes on him when he said it. She did feel for Marcel; not love, perhaps, but her feelings for him were real. She still cared for Marcel, though they were only just friends now. It was Lucien's interest that gave her pause – did it bother him, knowing she had been with someone?

Was it jealousy? Or territorialism?

"You and I did spend some time together. Too many things happened during those months, for me to confuse you with the details of our . . . ordeal. But I'll give you this; what we endured together bound us beyond anything I've experienced in all of my life."

"So you fell for me," Cami summarized.

Lucien rapped his knuckles on the table, "Such a simplistic way of expressing what really happened. What we had, Camille, was real. It was love."

"A love so powerful I have no memory of it," Cami said sharply. "Compelled to forget it all, yes, but I feel nothing for you now. No impression of these strong feelings I once had. No sensation of familiarity. No ache in my heart. I feel nothing."

"You will," Lucien assured her. "I swear to you, Cami. I will bring it back."

"How?"

He reached for his wineglass. Firelight glinted off the deep purple liquid inside, sparkling beautifully in the heavy crystal. Lucien took a slow drink and Cami's eyes followed the motion. She watched his firm mouth close over the lip of the glass. Saw his throat move, bobbing slightly as he drank. The hard length of his neck, pale skin against the jet black silk of his shirt collar.

He was as beautiful as he was deadly. Lethal predator.

And his eyes . . . his eyes were fixed with hers. Laughter dancing within their depths. He saw her looking and knew that she liked what she saw. Cami looked quickly away, flustered.

"You feel it," Lucien taunted. "You feel the attraction, even though you've been compelled to deny it."

"I loved you?" she demanded, soft blue eyes flashing. She tried to calm herself but a wildness burned in her chest. Denial, as he said. Her whole beings seeming to rebel against the mere idea that she might have . . . once . . . loved him. Compulsion twisting, coiling like a serpent inside of her. It was almost a physical pain.

"You did," Lucien said, driving forward. "I forced nothing. I played no games to manipulate your affections. You loved me and I . . . I loved you more than any other. In more than nine hundred years, I never loved anyone else."

"No one?" That was the most unbelievable thing he'd said all night. That the suave vampire's heart hadn't been touched once in nine centuries. It was . . . statistically . . . not once? "C'mon Lucien. Unless you really expect me to believe I'm the most fascinating woman in history, you'll have to do better. You say I loved you once, and that the attraction was mutual. Why would Klaus give a damn that I cared about you? Or was there something about you that he was trying to protect me from?"

"Ah, hell," Lucien muttered, irritated at the turn her mind was taking. "No, Cami. Greedy bastard was attracted to you, too. He fell for you, and it was intolerable to him that you were in love with _**me**_. He knew you'd made your choice and that the only way for him to win you're love was to erase me from your mind. I stopped existing and you . . . you learned to care for him."

No. No, he wouldn't.

Cami closed her eyes, wincing at the implication that Klaus – that he'd done this to her. If Lucien was right than Klaus essentially kidnapped her. He robbed her of her heart. Did it matter that she was happy? That she enjoyed her time with the Hybrid? He stole her right to make a decision.

Was it real? Did she love Lucien Castle?

Had she forgotten?

Or was it never there, and she was only just being played as a fool?

"You said you could make me remember," Cami said, weakly. Her heart stuttered, the beat thudding wildly in her ribcage. Distrust left a sour taste in her mouth but she wanted to hear what Lucien meant to do. "How? How can you erase an Original's compulsion? You can't just undo it."

Lucien's expression darkened. Cami went on, "If what you're telling me is true, than Klaus didn't bury these memories Lucien. They are _**gone**_. The Originals are not known for leaving loose ends."

"There is a way," Lucien said, quietly. His voice low. Intense.

Camille felt the little hairs on the back of her neck prickling.

"I can show you my own memory. Take you back to our last night together, and show you what was lost. Prove to you that what I'm saying is true."

"Y-you're going to do what?"

Lucien rose from his seat. Tall and dark and solid, his eyes catching the candlelight making their depths shine with black fire. Camille scrambled back from the table, stumbling to her feet and knocking over her chair in her haste. One hand closed over the small knife resting on the edge of the butter dish, and she held it forward. Useless weapon, she would have done better without it. But it was all she had.

"Stay away from me," she warned, all the strength she meant to press into those words catching in her throat so that her voice shook instead. They both knew there was nothing – nothing – she could do to stop him.

Lucien hesitated, and Cami thought she saw a moment of indecision . . . muscles burned from holding them taught for too long. The indecision cleared and Lucien fixed her with a stare that froze her blood. Unshakable resolve.

"This is for the best," he said quietly. "Don't be afraid, Camille. I'm not going to hurt you."

"I said **stay away**!"

Lucien advanced and without thinking, Cami struck! She swiped her butter knife in a single hard cut and screamed when Lucien snatched her arm, twisting her around with incredible strength. His other hand came around to hook around her waist. She kicked her legs, feet striking an overturned chair and doing no real damage. She screamed again, a voiceless cry of frustration and anger. Lucien had her, her back pressed tight to his front.

Lucien's chest solid. Lean, firm muscle that bunched with pure vampire power.

"No!" Cami shouted, the panic rising in her far beyond any logical terror. It was almost a scripted, making the part of her that could still form a coherent thought wonder at Lucien's assertion that she was compelled to feel aversion. Distrust. Fear. "Don't touch me! No. No!"

Lucien stumbled, slipping on the slick floor and his captive's flailing . . . they fell together. Lucien twisting his body around to take the worst of the impact. Cami in his arms, landed right on top of him. She screamed again, shouting obscenities as Lucien pressed a firm hand to her head. Long fingers tangling in her hair. She struggled for all she was worth, fighting what would come next and felt his power swell.

A current of crackling energy. Consciousness.

His thoughts melted into hers and Cami was swept away on a tide of forgotten memories . . .


	3. Chapter 3

_***It goes without saying that The Originals – the story and all related characters – belong to the writers, cast and crew of the show. I claim no ownership or association to the TV series titled The Originals. This was written by a fan solely for the enjoyment of other fans.***_

 **Chapter 3**

 _All you have is your fire_

 _And the place you need to reach_

 _Don't you ever tame your demons_

 _But always keep 'em on a leash_

– **Arsonist's Lullaby**

HOZIER, Lyrics

* * *

Cami gasped at the first intrusive thrust of his mind breaking into hers.

His thoughts. Her thoughts.

For one wild moment, there was only chaos. Minds did not come together easily, and for what Lucien intended he needed them to melt seamlessly. She resisted, terror zinging through her body like an electrical current but she had no power. Her mind buckled beneath Lucien's superior strength. He swept her will aside and carefully pressed deeper. They became one.

Cami lost herself to Lucien's memory . . .

* * *

" _We won," Lucien said, hardly able to believe it himself. It felt good to say the words, even if his companion didn't appear to be listening. He glanced back at the woman who'd come home with him, leaving her friends to find their own peace on the heels of their terrible victory._

 _The sun was setting over the New Orleans skyline, slanting hot orange light across the glossy floors of his penthouse. The large windows offered a breathtaking, panoramic view of the city with a silver ribbon that was the Mississippi river in the distance. Camille rested on the sofa near the glass; quietly watching the sky melt. She had her legs drawn up, feet tucked in. Her head in one hand, elbow on the arm of the couch. Her long hair like liquid gold, curtaining one side of her face._

 _A picture of contemplative musings. She was deep in thought._

 _He knew what she was thinking. It was on his mind, too._

 _Their time was up._

 _From the moment he took her into his arms, relieved just to be alive . . . their secret was out. He loved her and their relationship progressed quickly in the few months since they first started as reluctant allies. Rallying with the Originals for the good of them all. Lucien might never have meant to fall for the human friend of his Sire but he was as helpless to resist her as Klaus seemed to be. No woman had intrigued him, fascinated him, and inflamed him as Cami did. She was his brilliant golden star. She lit his life with light and passion and_ _ **living**_ _, where before he existed only in the dusk of immortality._

 _He lived forever . . . he did not live at all._

 _Then there was Camille. She burst through that shell of jaded agelessness and nothing had been the same since. He loved her. She is what made life worth living. ._

 _And in the end,_ _ **she**_ _chose_ _ **him**_ _._

 _And it wasn't until that final battle, where he took her into his arms – holding her so tightly – overwhelming relief to find she was unharmed . . . that she'd survived . . . and she took his face in her hands, fingers warm against his skin and Klaus had seen . . ._

 _Klaus knew. He knew that he'd lost Cami's budding affections, and that there might still be friendship but never the love that the bastard craved from his mortal. They were allowed to leave, together retreating to the quiet of Lucien's penthouse for a brief reprieve. A little while to rest before all hell broke loose. A new hell._

 _Lucien filled a glass with strong whisky, the liquid chiming over the ice cubes, honey brown and fragrant. He took none for himself. He brought the drink to Camille, needing to hold it out for her to take for a beat too long before she accepted the glass. He was sure she meant to refuse, but changed her mind._

" _How are you?" He asked her, settling himself on the edge of the end table._

 _She didn't look at him, though she took a long swig of the drink. Her heart drummed evenly, the rhythm only slightly elevated. Her creamy skin pinking slightly, at the sudden heat from the whisky. Cami didn't look well. Her calm entirely too deliberate._

" _He won't kill us, Lucien," Cami said, gaze still averted. She tilted her glass, making the ice clink. "He'll wait a while. Let us anticipate him coming, but he won't kill us. He's coming for_ _ **you**_ _."_

 _Her voice broke on that last part, a tremor she never meant to let loose. Her hand clenched around the glass so tightly, her fingers were turning white. She was angry. Afraid. No fear for herself, though. Her concern was solely for him. As dire as their circumstances were, he appreciated the concern._

 _She was right, of course. Klaus would kill him, and leave Cami to live with the knowledge that her love was death of him. A fitting punishment for the woman who slighted the bastard by giving her heart into another's keeping._

 _Cami swung back the last of the whisky still in her glass, feeling the burn slide smoothly down her throat. She focused on the swell of heat rolling through her blood, because it helped to distract from the chill crystallizing around her heart. Her thoughts mirroring Lucien's. Klaus wouldn't let them go . . . and there was nowhere for them to run. At best, they had tonight. Their last time together before all hell broke out. A new hell to replace the one they'd only just survived._

 _A cool hand brushed over Cami's bare arm, sweeping trailing tendrils of golden hair back over her shoulder. Only then did Cami realize she was trembling. She lifted her eyes, soft blue peeking through her lashes and met Lucien's focused gaze. He watched her with the fixed intensity of the predator, and rather than feel unnerved by the power in those dark, dark eyes she felt a frisson of excitement. Not appropriate considering the danger they were in, but certainly enhanced by it._

 _Lucien was very aware of what Cami was thinking and the ghost of a smile he allowed was one of dark appreciation. Seeing it sparkled something other than whisky through Camille's blood, warming her straight through. She could feel desire pooling molten in her stomach. Lower._

" _Cami," Lucien said, quietly._

 _The last of the evening light slanted brilliant crimson over his handsome face, accentuating the shadows of high cheekbones. Sculpted jaw. The long, aristocratic nose. His hair was as black as pitch, but his eyes contained rich amber bursts that flecked their natural charcoal brown and in_ _ **those**_ _the light erupted. They sparkled, igniting with a color that was more beautiful than the sun._

 _She knew she was in love with him. Knew that her emotions were grounded by that love, but not if her desire was fired from a readiness to cement those powerful feelings . . . or simple animal lust._

 _Oh, she wanted him. And she could have him now._

 _Lucien wouldn't deny her. He wanted her too and had, for a long time now._

 _And if tonight was going to be their last night – their final few hours before they were torn apart forever . . . well, if they were waiting for the right time then this was it. And that was it. The moment she surrendered to her desire, molten heat pooling enticingly became the quick white bolt of lightning shooting through her blood. Lust._

 _Her breath escaped in a whoosh and Lucien's smile twisted. "Now?"_

 _Oh, yes._ _ **Right now**_ _._

* * *

It was her – Cami – who moved first. She initiated it and the part of her still separate from Lucien's mind stirred under compelled denial. Klaus compulsion so powerful that it nearly broke her free of these memories but Lucien held her firmly trapped within them. He would not let her go. She would see. She would remember it all, even if he could only show it to her secondhand.

Pleasure blasted across her subconscious, quieting that brief rebellion.

* * *

 _Cami trembled. Lucien's power throbbed beneath her hands, as she slid them up over his hard shoulders. Feeling sharp, defined muscle bunch and coil at her touch. The soft white sweater he wore hot from the warmth of his body and the scent of his lust heavy on the air. Creating an erotic ambience against the backdrop of sparkling lights from the city behind him. He was so beautiful. A perfect, lethal creature who made her feel safe even when she knew she wasn't._

 _Lucien drew his shirt off with a single blindingly fast tug. Dropped it to the floor where it crumpled into a heap, immediately forgotten as Cami's mouth went dry. Because suddenly his mouth was on her neck, lips and tongue probing her pulse to send a luscious shiver through her. Cami took in a shuddering breath, her head falling back. Eyes falling shut._

 _Seeing Lucien's pale, muscular chest. His hard, flat stomach with its narrow line of dark hair disappearing into his pants . . . she nearly came undone. Her body trembled with need. His hands caressed her face, firm lips trailing up the length of her throat. So close to hers she could almost taste them._

" _Is this what you want?" Lucien's breath warm on her face. Her head was full of the scent of his skin. A particular smell that was both dark and intoxicating and wholly natural. Green mint, she thought the day they met. But of course Lucien could never be so simple. It was mint and rich, cool soil and the freshness of the wind over water._

 _The scent of his skin. A delicious smell she would never be free of._

 _She would always know it. Always crave it. No one . . . not even Klaus . . . could take this from her._

 _Lucien nibbled seductively at the corner of her mouth, letting her taste him without taking. Holding himself carefully restrained, to tease her senses. To heighten the anticipation and Camille curled her fingers around to the back of his head. Pulling him closer._

" _Too long," she muttered breathlessly. "We waited too long. Why did we have to wait until the end? What were we hiding from?"_

 _Pain needled her heart, tears glistening in Cami's celestial blue eyes. She knew, of course. Even as she said the words, she knew the answer. Lucien; jaded with a heart encased in stone. To protect himself, he let no one in. Cami, unable to surrender to love after the monumental grief that came from loss. To love is to suffer. Her brother. Her uncle. She opened herself to love before. She couldn't stand that sort of pain again._

 _Both of them too afraid to feel the hurt. Neither of them able to deny that they had come to care too deeply. They'd never had a chance._

 _Lucien's mouth covered hers, swallowing her gasp and the heartache that could wait as he pulled her to him. Cami came willingly, letting herself sink into the embrace of his vampire strength. Surrounding herself with it so that she could pretend, for a while at least, that he could not be defeated. That everything would be alright._

 _Lucien's tongue probed past her lips in sensual demand, making heat flare up her spine. She opened her mouth, groaning at the hungry kiss combined with the hard feel of his body pressed along hers. Excitement coursed through her as she felt his fangs lengthen, their sharpness grazing her tongue. He kissed her like a man dying of thirst. Deep, luxurious pulls that pooled moisture between her legs and made her toes curl._

 _Strong hands slipped over her legs, hooking behind her knees and giving a hard tug. Cami fell forward, legs bracing on either side of Lucien's body. She gasped and laughed, both without breaking from Lucien's drugging kisses. He chuckled back, a low rumble in his chest. Dark against her tongue and the sting of salt from where his fangs scraped against her lower lip. Drawing only a tiny droplet of blood before the cut closed._

 _Her body felt alive. Electric. Each pulsing ache of pleasure rolling beneath her skin crackling at his touch. His hands on her. His tongue and teeth and the taste of him. He was everywhere. His luscious scent seeping into her skin. Her heart close to bursting with happiness and lust and love. All together, all at once and it was the most exquisite pleasure-pain._

 _He kissed her with a deliberate thoroughness. Tongue exploring every inch of her mouth. Touching and tasting with that wet, hard heat._

 _Cami's knees knocked on the glossy black table they were on. Her eyes opened, and though her lashes she saw the slick hardwood floors glistening with reflected city lights._

" _The bed," she managed, breathless and weak with desire. "Lucien."_

 _He didn't voice any sort of response, but he lifted her up. Carried her effortlessly to the immense dark wood and glass bedroom, his vampire strength so great she felt as if she floated on air. There was no strain._

 _Cami trembled at the softness of the bed on her back, a moment later. His satin sheets cool against her skin. The same navy color as the night. Anticipation like a knife in her belly. It hurt so much, and felt so good all at once. Lucien kissed her once more, a slow promising lick before pulling away. The blazing heat in his eyes like black fire. It seared her wherever his gaze landed. She felt that stare like a physical caress. Intimately hot._

 _Her nipples tightened, so hard they could have cut glass._

 _Breath catching in her throat, Cami slipped her hands under the hem of her shirt and smoothly pulled it off. She was up on her elbows, hair messed from the removal of her shirt and all the more beautiful because of it. Like Venus in the sea, swathed by the smooth blue of his sheets she was a goddess. Her skin like cream. Eyes like stars, inviting him to come closer. To bask in the rich living pulse of her body so different from his._

 _For the first time, it was Lucien's breath that caught. She smiled touched her hand to the hard cool skin of his chest. Fingers only just grazing the stiff peak of his nipples._

 _The energy in the room changed, and Lucien's laugh was soft and wicked. He crawled onto the bed, his weight indenting the mattress. Cami's heart thundered in her ears. Excitement pooling wet heat between her legs. Her skin on fire from wanting him._

 _Lucien crouched over her, completely naked. He'd taken off his belt and pants in the time it took Cami to slip off her shirt._

 _His was the lean, tight body for an athlete. An endurance runner, not a weightlifter. Coiled power, whiplash speed. More feline than wolfish, without any of that restlessness. He would be a slow lover. One who could spend hours exploring. Teasing. Letting her climb right to the edge without ever letting her fall over. Not until he was ready to let her._

 _Cami watched as he leaned down to kiss her again. She opened her mouth, relishing the skillful thrust of his tongue as it teased and stroked along hers. His fingers ran over the ridges of her ribs, and higher. Skin on skin, probing gently – briefly – at her bare breasts without really touching. Enticing her to anticipate. Waiting. Waiting . . ._

 _The erotic feel of his mouth was almost enough to make her close her eyes in bliss, but that would have cut off her view of the magnificent vampire poised over her. And she wanted to watch. Oh, did she ever. A wild, primal hunger filled her. Cami didn't just want to make love to him . . . she wanted to_ **devour** _him._

 _She slid down, pulling him on top of her. Lucien balanced his weight, pressing her against the bed without crushing her and let out a groan when she opened her legs and rubbed herself along the long, thick length of him. Lucien broke from their kiss, pressing his forehead to hers and hissing through his teeth at the sharp bolt of ecstatic pleasure that shot from his groin, around to the back of his hips and then straight up his spine._

 _The pressure at Cami's core inflamed her, sending waves of need crashing through her. Cami arched against him, letting out a choked gasp as Lucien undulated his hips. His pelvis rubbed against her clitoris in a deep caress. The heavy length of him pushing against the thin cotton of her underwear._

 _She ran her hands down Lucien's back to his hips, digging her nails into those rounded muscles and pressing him closer in greedy demand. The ache in her loins turning feverish. Her blood sparkling like quicksilver with wanting him._

" _Now!" she gasped. Her body writhing under him, crying out in pleasure at the friction. But also in frustration at the material that prevented him from being inside her._

 _Lucien closed his mouth over her left nipple and sucked so hard his fangs would have pierced her breast had he not retracted them. Pleasure coursed through her whole body, heightening the steadily mounting tension down low to where it was almost unbearable._

 _She twisted underneath him, her hand descending between them to push her underwear aside but Lucien caught her wrists, pinning her hands up over her head with one hand. The other slid sensually down the length of her body, pausing to probe at her most sensitive places before pausing at her hip. Cami trembled. Lucien caught the edge of her panties, pulling her underwear down her legs so slowly Cami was sweating by the time they cleared her feet._

 _Lucien gave her aching breast a last lick before dropping the scrap of cotton and moving up to slant his mouth over hers. Spreading her legs farther apart with his knees. Cami opened to him willingly, eagerly. Dripping in anticipation for him to bury himself inside of her._

 _Her gasp dissolved into a sharp cry of pleasure so tight it bordered on agony when his mouth descended between her legs instead. Lucien's tongue raked her swollen flesh, licking and probing where that aching throb was the strongest. Scalding heat engulfed her as that wet, flexible pressure alternated between flicking her clitoris to delving inside her depths._

 _Cami arched, writhing in wordless demand to feel more._

 _Lucien yanked her closer, pulling her leg around his shoulders. His tongue moving in firm, ceaseless strokes. The tightening bands of ecstasy inside her were about to snap; as her last coherent thought Cami sank her hands into Lucien's shoulders and pulled at him. Hard. Sliding down at the same time._

" _Now. Lucien. Now!" she almost shouted._

 _He was on top of her in the next moment, his mouth stealing her breath with a richly flavored kiss. His hands braced at her hips, holding her still as he thrust himself forward._

 _The first hard breach of his flesh into hers made her inner muscles contract with an almost painful pleasure. The second, deeper thrust had her moaning into his mouth at the thick feel of him stretching her. The third stroke buried him fully inside of her, her flesh closing around his length so tightly she was like a fist. And when he undulated his pelvis against her at the same time, the fullness combined with erotic pressure made pleasure burst within her._

 _Cami screamed at the climax rippling through her, sending rapturous contractions through her loins. Her orgasm ripped through her body, sharp and all-consuming and too much! Lucien's rapid grinding, hot friction, intensified those ripples. Causing wave after wave of molten ecstasy to heave within her. Prolonging them, while that hungry ache inside her turned to sweet satisfaction._

 _Cami didn't realize she'd closed her eyes until she opened them to see Lucien's beloved face poised above hers. His fangs lengthening as he quickly climbed toward his own orgasm but not quite there yet. His expression was sheer lustful intentness, as he watched the last tremors of orgasm shake her._

" _I want to feel that again." His tone darkly resonant._

" _You first," she managed, gasping and weak and her skin sensitized so that she felt every inch of him pressing against her. The scent of his skin; of green mint and soil and water now perfumed with hers. Calla Lilies, he told her once. A heady combination and a smell that was forever theirs. Their scent._

 _Still hard, Lucien slowly pulled himself out of her body. Cami moaned, her loins contracting with a soft aftershock at the slide of his hot flesh against hers. She caught her breath, supple body slick with sweat and flushed pink. The inside of her thighs glistening._

" _I love your voice this way," Lucien whispered, pressing his lips to the soft skin behind her ear. "Such a throaty purr."_

 _He nipped her earlobe, then licked away the sting. Cami shivered, her body stirring as she imagined feeling his hard length break inside of her again. He hadn't climaxed, holding himself carefully back from taking that final plunge. His erection, slick from her juices was still so hard. Throbbing heat against her inner thigh._

" _Lucien," Cami said, needing to swallow and take a lungful of air. She was out of breath, little echoes of orgasm still prickling under her skin. She took his face in her hands, gently turning his gaze to hers and stared straight into his eyes. "Why did we wait?"_

 _He kissed her. "It needed to be right, Cami. And it is."_

 _He slid himself into her again; a long, luxurious stroke that made her moan. It was a sound that came from deep inside, resonating as her already swollen nether-lips stretched to accept him. Nerves still zinging from before flared with a shocking sensation of heat that was almost as powerful as her first orgasm. Her lungs seized at the intensity of that pleasure, Cami's whole body firing in reaction._

 _Just as before, Lucien's hips flexed right when he was deepest inside of her. Rubbing against the pearl at her center._

" _Lucien . . . yes . . ."_

 _Cami's hands crept down his back, feeling his muscles bunch as another long thrust and rock of his hips made her mind go numb and her body come alive. She curled her legs around him, gasping as he moved even deeper. Wanting more, though she wasn't sure she could stand it._

 _Another thrust closed her eyes at the pressure tightening inside her, returning with amazing swiftness. A combination of those deep-seeking thrust and that erotic massaging of her clit had her rocking against him in blind need._

 _He kissed her, plundering her mouth with the same passion that had her straining toward him. Cami slid her tongue between his fangs to suck his. Consumed by the taste and feel of him. His arms strong around her. His weight pinning her to the mattress. Hips meeting out incredible, culminating pleasure with each strong thrust._

 _She started to whimper. Her hands alternating clenching or raking down his back. The hard rhythm inside of her was too much . . . not enough . . . and so good all at the same time._

" _Don't stop," she whispered. Deliberately clenching her lower muscles, causing a spike in ecstasy when that sharpened the sensation of his penetrating thrusts. "Lucien."_

 _She was begging for more. Afraid of feeling more. Wanting. Needing. Mindlessly crying out for him to go deeper. Harder. Faster._

 _Lucien shifted so that her hips lifted, and when he thrust forward he pushed even deeper inside of her. Filling her with his girth. Stretching her inner flesh, swollen with blood and almost painfully sensitive. She cried out, the fullness too intense but addictive. That sensual grinding almost constant in this position._

 _She couldn't reach his mouth, but his chest met her lips and she kissed it. Savoring the hardness of firm muscle, and the delicious flavor of their combined scents on his skin. She caught his nipple in her mouth, sucking. Aroused to new heights by his groan in response._

 _Those hard strokes inside her increased, inflaming her. She sucked harder, using her teeth to nip and then licking away the sting. His grip tightened._

" _More!" Cami breathed, watching his wet nipple pucker at the cool draft of her breath._

 _A deep roll of Lucien's hips almost made stars appear in her vision. Her mind began to whirl as Lucien increased the rhythm of his powerful thrusts . . . pleasure narrowed her consciousness until she felt like the world consisted of nothing but this moment. The slap of skin on skin, and the taste of sweat from their bodies._

 _That inner tightening kept growing. Twisting and clenching her body tighter around him, while her pulse seemed to thunder between them. Deafening to Lucien's vampire senses. Shocking coming from within her own chest. Her heartbeat reverberated throughout her body._

" _Come with me," she gasped, feeling that knotted heat uncoiling. Pressure about to burst inside her. "Lucien. Lucien, come with me now."_

 _Everything tilted in that instant, and cooler air touched Cami's feverish skin._

 _She was on top of Lucien, now. He'd turned them over, reversing positions without having to pull himself out of her. His hot length throbbed inside her body. Too hard. Too hot. He was burning her up and when she pressed against him, he moved with rapid, forceful strokes that rocked her backward in ecstasy._

 _The sensation of him being between her legs was more intense in this position. The eroticism tingling in the place where they were joined._

 _Lucien sat up, arms coming around her waist to hold her against him. Tighter. Locking her hips to his so that they could move together, but she couldn't pull him out by even an inch._

 _His mouth latched onto hers, Cami's breath coming fast. Harsh in her own throat. Lucien's breaths panting. The agony of near-orgasm riding him._

 _Cami wasn't controlling their rhythm. Though she was on top, Lucien had her caught in a sensual grip while he rocked and the length of him stroked her inner flesh faster than any human possibly could. Truthfully, Cami did not mind. She surrendered to his passion, satisfied that her dark lover was very capable of sending her soaring. He attended to her needs and to his own with a ferocious driving passion that thrilled her._

 _Lucien plunged his fangs deep into Cami's throat, and the pleasure inside her ruptured so forcefully that her mouth fell open to scream out at the glorious orgasm ripping her body apart . . . and not a sound came out._

 _Vampire fangs withdrew, hot tongue sweeping over the punctures to seal them closed. A moment later, Lucien let out a guttural moan. A powerful shudder rocked him, and he clenched Cami hard against him. She felt the hot, liquid rush filling her and smiled softly, turning her face into her lover's neck._


	4. Chapter 4

_***It goes without saying that The Originals – the story and all related characters – belong to the writers, cast and crew of the show. I claim no ownership or association to the TV series titled The Originals. This was written by a fan solely for the enjoyment of other fans.***_

 **Chapter 4**

* * *

 _Now my thoughts are slow_

 _I don't know what to do_

 _Like a bug in a web_

 _I'm trapped and so are you_

– **Bug in a Web**

CallMeKat, Lyrics

* * *

Cami came out of their shared memory.

Smoothly, without pain or fear. Like sunshine breaking through the clouds, her thoughts cleared and she was back in the candlelit room. Cradled in Lucien's arms, her body sizzling with awareness. She could feel him, his hard chest pressing against her back. The scent of his skin; green mint and warm earth. The scent haunted her dreams, seeping into her subconscious like smoke from a signal fire. Prey to Klaus' compulsion, she had no power to resist.

Forget Lucien. Forget you know him. Trusted him. Loved him . . .

 _Forget, Camille . . . forget._

Tears blurred her vision, stinging her eyes. A deep sense of loss and emptiness swept through her; barren and cold as ice water. A hole inside her that'd once been full of something warm and wonderful.

Heat flushed her skin, moisture pooled between her legs – unfulfilled arousal. The memory of passion and hands touching her. She could feel echoes of that vision against her skin. The sensation of fingers probing. Tongue and fangs sliding intimately. A taste of danger heightening her excitement.

She'd loved him. It was there, in the memory. What she felt for Lucien went so far beyond what she imagined she would ever know. It was sonnets and dark chocolate, satin sheets and passionate embraces. The sort of all-consuming love to make you believe in forever. Believe in meant-to-be. Impossible fantasy and it was real. It was hers. And Klaus stole it all away.

Klaus robbed her of Lucien, because he wanted Cami for himself.

The sheer selfishness; the terribleness of what he did to her. A violation and an evil she could not forgive.

"Camille?" Lucien's voice in her ear, breathless and intent. Her prolonged silence, her stillness as she reeled at the magnitude of all that was lost . . . he was worried. He didn't know what she was thinking, if it'd worked.

He was feeling the effects of reliving that memory, too. Cami could feel his erection pressed against her buttocks, hard and hot. It didn't bother her, for the same reason her wetness reassured her. It was real. It was the truth.

"Cami?"

She trembled with desire. Aroused, but the climax only happened in their memory. Her body writhed with need, wanting so desperately to finish. Her brain insisted she stop and talk to him, first.

"I don't remember," she whispered. "I don't remember, Lucien."

His arms tightened around her. Like iron bands around her body and she felt very safe there with him. Not restrained, but held. Lucien thought he was losing her and wanted to hold onto this moment for as much longer as he could. His scent soaked into her skin. Soil and green mint. A luscious flavor she could taste on her tongue. She wanted to kiss him. Wanted to taste his skin the way she had before and it was all she could do to control herself.

"I don't remember," she said again, voice trembling with the tears that caught in her throat. A painful lump lodged there, hurting even worse when she tried to swallow it down. "But I _**believe**_ you, Lucien."

She said his name the way he would have heard it as a child. Not the English "Lu-c-ious" but with the smoother French pronunciation: "Liew-s-ien".

His memories were incomplete, sharing only one evening. A moment in time, where she was missing the whole. All that'd led up to that climactic finale. The sex was spectacular. The emotions – oh, god – ever part of her had been involved. She felt those emotions, raw, straight through to her soul. She wished she could know every moment; every look, touch, taste and smell from the first glance. Cami searched her memory, finding only emptiness. Still, seeing what they'd had together secondhand was enough to trigger those secrets.

A longing that ached in her chest always – what she never knew was her heart crying out for the man she loved.

 _Promise me, Lucien. Promise me, you'll come for me._

Words echoed, skipping lightly through her subconscious. Ghostly images blossomed, bursting briefly before sinking back. She saw herself, wrapped in the navy satin sheets of Lucien's bed. Body humming and acutely aware of every inch of her own skin . . . looking into her lover's eyes. _Promise me, Lucien._

"You kept your word," Cami said in awe. She turned her head, Lucien's breath cool on her throat and looked into his eyes. Why had she ever though them dark? They were warm, rich color. Molten gold and chocolate. "You came back for me."

"Always," he swore and held her closer, pressing her into his chest. Eyes closing on the conviction of that quiet promise. "Always, Camille."

"What happens now?" she asked him. Klaus wouldn't be happy with what was done, and Cami didn't know if she could hide what she felt for Lucien from the hybrid now that there were cracks in her memory. Tiny little openings which allowed whispers of what was there before to slip through. Tantalizing little tastes of what she could have again.

Lucien was clearly thinking the same. They could be together, easily, but for one little hiccup in their happily ever after. "We could bury him."

Cami elbowed the vampire in the stomach. Hard, solid muscle. He chuckled softly, smiling into her neck. Pressing warm lips to the skin of her throat. "Is that a no?"

"I don't want him tortured, Lucien." Again, pronouncing his name as the French _Liew-s-ien_ just as she'd done the day she told him she loved him – and every day since. More than a year ago, now, but at the time he had so appreciated the consideration. She stopped after Klaus' compulsion erased him from her mind, and going back to the English pronunciation after they'd "met" at Klaus' gallery opening. But now, slipping so easily into a vernacular she'd forgotten about swelled his heart with warmth. A sharp needle of affection for what should have been a little thing. Cami was still talking, "We can't shut him away forever. And if we could, I don't think . . ."

"You care for him," he noted. "Deeply. Even with what you know he did to you, you're trying to protect him."

Cami swallowed hard, her mind turning over. How to explain? How to put the chaos in her heart into words? She admitted, "I do care. What he did – he stole so much away from us and he had no right. None at all. How do you forgive something like this? That doesn't mean I want him tortured. Locked away forever? No, Lucien."

They could leave. He might let them go.

She could talk to him. Furious and aware of what he'd done; shame him into allowing them to live. To stay together. Or that could backfire and Klaus might kill Lucien this go-round. Compel her so thoroughly she lose her soul in the taking of her heart.

Or not.

For the first time, Cami realized she truly could not even guess at what Klaus would do. She had no idea. That scared her more than anything. More, even, then going back to that empty place where Lucien did not exist while her love for him did. A torturous thing she hadn't been able to stand but could find no source for her pain.

Camille shivered at the smooth, cool slide of a strong hand over her belly. Her sweater lifted up, just a little. Enough so that a breath of air touched the soft skin there. Heated skin. Her mind a million miles away, imagining the danger they were in, while her body continued to hum with desire. Energy crackling just beneath the surface.

Lucien said, speaking right into her ear, "What's to stop your precious hybrid from killing _**us**_?"

"Absolutely nothing," Cami admitted. Oh, god she wanted him. Not Klaus; Lucien. His hand had stilled, resting lightly on her skin but she could feel his touch in her bones. Every inch of her vibrating with awareness and want.

The memory of their first time together danced and whirled in her mind, teasing her with the fun they'd had. And that's exactly what it felt like. Unfulfilled. Like they had been having sex right here on the floor, and then just stopped right before climax. She _**burned**_. Every part of her wanting to finish but how do you smoothly slide a serious discussion concerning imminent death to: _'Take me. Take me now!'_

She wondered if now would be a good time to point out this might be their last night on Earth. The world wasn't ending. But their lives were hanging over the edge of a precipice and the rope holding them had begun to fray. Yeah. The last night line might just work.

"So what do you want to do? Given that burying the bastard is out of the question?"

What did she want to do? Oh, hell. Cami felt her stomach clench, heat pooling there and something even hotter tingling lower.

"I don't know. How do you stop the unstoppable?"

Lucien pressed his lips to her throat again, tongue probing at the pulse which beat there. Steady and too fast. She could feel his knowing laugh, though not a sound was made. He knew she wanted him and was teasing her, now. With the possibility. A reminder of how good he could make her feel and had Cami been anyone else she would have taken him right there. As hot as she was, to hell with games. She was ready.

Instead, she kept talking. Aware her restraint heightened his frustration, too.

Foreplay was fun when both participated. She could wait. Could he? Naughty excitement tightened the parts of her that weren't already coiled into quivering knots.

"Well?" she pressed, and if there was a particular breathlessness to her voice oh well. "How do we stop someone knowing there's no real way to keep them from what they want?"

"By making him think it was his idea," said Lucien. His erection was starting to feel like an iron rod pressing into her backside, he was so hard. That did nothing to lessen the arousal coursing through Cami and it was all she could do to hold back the moan building in her chest.

Camille wiggled, loosening Lucien's hold as she indicated she wanted to move. He let her go and she slid over his body, turning herself around so that her front was to him. Bringing herself face to face with her half-remembered lover. Lucien outright trembled at the feel of her body moving over him; rough and light, and the scent of her blood soft through her skin.

"How do we do that?"

Brown eyes focused with some difficulty. "Hm?"

"How do we convince Klaus he wants to let us live in peace?"

"A gift, maybe." Lucien swallowed hard, feeling strangled. Where had all the air gone? His lungs burned. His blood was on fire, coursing torturously through his veins. Heavy and thick as molasses, as if he were on the verge of starvation. His jaw ached with the effort of keeping his fangs sheathed.

Camille smiled, her pink lips pulling seductively at the corners. "Having a bit of a difficult time thinking, Lucien? Klaus is not going to gift us with freedom."

Lucien kissed her. His hand cupped the back of her head, long fingers tangling in her hair he lifted his face to meet hers the half-inch separating them. It was a hard, claiming kiss full of hunger and long-denied passion. Dark and heady, his taste new to her but also familiar and more intoxicating than the most exquisite wine.

Her body responded; thoughts scattering at the lightning that shot through her blood. Electric and terrifying and somehow perfect. Cami's lips parted on a groan of raw need. She wanted him and now, now that she could have him it was like their first time all over again. And in a sense, it was, because all she had was _**his**_ memory of what came before.

That . . . that didn't matter. She could be angry later.

Right now, she had the chance to start over with a man she was already in love with. She would make more memories. New memories of times spent with him. Lucien Castle – dark and predatorily dangerous, the epitome of vampire power and he was hers. Her dark lover. Her champion.

She couldn't lose him again.

"Lucien," Cami gasped, blue eyes smoky and wild with need. His breath hot in her mouth. Body solid on hers, reinforcing the reality of this moment. Not a memory. This was happening, right now, and he was here. "Lucien, this is important."

Only because her fear of losing him overrode the wonderful things his tongue was doing. Rich, golden brown eyes lifted beneath dark lashes. He smiled, listening . . . somewhat.

Cami was in actual, physical pain from wanting him. She said, "He's coming."

"Coming when?" Lucien taunted. Warm, strong hand slid down the front of her body. Fingers teasing over her nipples for only a second, the lightest caress before moving lower. Air whooshed from her lungs. "We have this moment, dear sweet Camille. No one knows things have changed."

He slipped low, lower, passing the rough palm of his hand over her naked thigh. And then gently up, lifting the hem of her borrowed skirt to explore those areas beneath. His touch at once light, fingers only dancing over her skin and strong. Sure. Knowing what he wanted, and where he intended to go. Her inner thigh particularly sensitive to the brush of his fingers. Pleasure needled so sharply she could have cried.

"No one knows where you are, what we're doing," Lucien added. His smirk devilish. Full of dark promise.

Fingers moved under the soft cotton of her underwear, a restriction neither of them appreciated. With only a twist of his wrist, Lucien tore the panties off of her and Camille's eyes fell closed. Trusting and wanting and recklessly aroused.

"We have tonight," Lucien promised her. "Tomorrow, we face the devil together."

* * *

 **Final Word From DayStorm –** _Thank you all so much for giving this short-story a chance. I appreciate the interest my little request-fic has garnered. A small following and I couldn't be happier. I wasn't kidding when I said I wanted to come back to this, and create a full-length fic from it. Delve deeper into Cami and Lucien's history . . . and in what comes next._

 _So absolutely caught up in writing more, I've even drafted a rough outline for the full-length. This will be my next big project for sure, even if I can't give anyone an estimate for when I'll begin._

 _This short-story is titled_ _ **"For the Nights I Can't Remember"**_ _but the full-length fanfic will be called_ _ **"Dance with the Devil"**_ _._

 _Cheers!_

 _DayStorm_


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